What's In A Name
by mpspenguin
Summary: Butch's soon-to-be parents, struggling to bring him into a functioning household, veer away from the more serious problems they're facing, and tackle an easier one: the matter of his name. Oneshot.


To say the city was polluted would have been an understatement. Car fumes swam in the air like a persistent fog, and you might have well have had a whole cigarette for all the second-hand smoke you'd inhale just walking from one end of the street to the other.

Contributing to the aroma of tobacco was a young man called Tyler, clad in a heavy ash trenchcoat that fell just above light grey boots. His cyan hair was uncovered, ruffled by the elements since the quick brush he'd given it that morning.

He blew out a cloud of vapour, watching it for a moment before pushing down the door handle to his apartment.

"Hey," he greeted, stepping into the hallway, cigarette glowing between gloved fingers.

"Hey yourself," his girlfriend- Jody- replied from another section of the flat, the clarity of her voice impaired by the walls. "I'm in the lounge."

"How's the kid?" Tyler asked as he went into the room, leaning against the frame of the doorway. Jody shifted on the sofa so she was facing him.

"Still unborn, if that's what you're getting at," she smirked, and then frowned with hazel eyes upon noticing the cigarette. "Put out that thing, for god's sake," she told him. "I'll be damned if our baby picks up your habit before he's even born."

Tyler sighed, finished the drag he was taking and snuffed out the smoke by twisting it against the glass of the ashtray atop the cabinet to his left. He then sunk next to Jody, the springs creaking slightly as his weight hit the sponge.

"How was work?" Jody asked, somewhat unenthusiastically.

Tyler shrugged. "Okay. Usual stuff."

"Let me guess- drowning people with cinderblocks? Or just in cement?" Jody suggested, only half-sarcastic.

"More along the lines of paperwork," Tyler chuckled, giving his head an exasperated shake. "What do you think we are, some kind of amateur street gang? It's an organisation, Jo. Professional like."

"Don't look much like it, not on the news," Jody retorted, but then sighed, leaning back. "Sorry. All the hormones seem to be kicking in at the same time today." She gently ran a hand over the ever growing bump on her stomach. "And this little bugger's been kicking me like anything."

"Are you meant to swear when you're pregnant?" Tyler asked, smiling.

Jody snorted. "As if he can understand a word," she said, but patted her abdomen softly. "Sorry kid. I take it back."

She jumped suddenly, feeling an almighty kick. "Agh- you bastard!" she yelped, laughing.

"I _hope _he can't hear you," Tyler grinned.

"You try putting up with nine months of this," Jody shot back, but not seriously. She let her light green hair down for a moment so that it curtained the top of her shoulders in soft strands, before pulling it back up into a neater ponytail. Jody tutted as Tyler shook off his overcoat, draping it across the armchair. "You could at least make more of an effort with hiding... that," she mumbled, pointing to the 'R' on his uniform.

"No one could see," Tyler said. Unconsciously, his fingers moved to his trouser pocket, and began to remove a cigarette; he reluctantly stopped himself once he was aware of the action. "Y'know," he started, moving closer to Jody, "they're pretty happy with my performance. Talkin' 'bout a promotion sometime, if things keep going the way they are. I might even go up a rank-"

"-To _chief_ cinderblock drowner," Jody teased, and quickly held her palms up at Tyler's disgruntled frown. "Joking," she giggled. "No, that's great. As soon as I'm done with this little one, I'll go back to working too."

Tyler's smile of amusement quickly faded, and he looked at her with a sincere expression, purple eyes focused.

"I know none of this Team Rocket stuff is ideal," he acknowledged quietly, "but at least it gives us some kind of shot. For the kid, too." He reached forwards, running his thumb over her hand. "And it's not bad work, really."

Jody resisted the urge to point out all the hypocrosy in that last statement, instead changing the subject. "You thought more about names?" she questioned.

His serious look replaced with one of brief contemplation, Tyler sucked in air through his teeth, and folded his hands behind his head. "Didn't really get that far," he answered. Five seconds passed, each one narrated by the clock on the mantelpiece, one that seemed to tick irritatingly loudly whenever there was silence enough to hear it. He kept meaning to buy a new one. "What about Laurence?" he proposed eventually. "It's my uncle's middle name."

Jody raised an eyebrow. "You mean your fairy-type-loving uncle in Kanto who calls everyone 'hun'?" she asked, shaking her head when Tyler nodded his in conformation. "Definitely not."

"It's a good name!" Tyler protested.

"It doesn't suit him," Jody responded.

"How do you know? You haven't met the thing yet!"

"Shaun," she said, eager to move on. "How's that? One syllable, not nursery-rhyme orientated," Jody explained, "nice and simple."

Tyler paused. "I like it," he admitted, "but I don't know- I was thinking of something more abstract."

"When did you care so much about your offspring's name?" Jody queried wearily.

"Hey- Butch," Tyler interrupted. "What about it?"

Jody shot him an odd look. "Where d'you get that from?"

"Dunno," Tyler said. "Must've been some TV show or something."

"Oh, great," Jody said, rolling her eyes.

"No, no," Tyler interjected quickly, "I'm not naming him after a programme or anything. It just sounds right, y'know? Butch."

Jody thought for a moment. "It's not bad," she agreed. "At least it's memorable- I can't see people forgetting a name like that."

"Yeah," Tyler concurred enthusiastically, "and it's not like every other kid's gonna be called the same thing."

After thinking it through, Jody nodded. "Alright. We'll make it a candidate, anyway." Tyler felt his heart sink as far as it'd risen as Jody bore into him, eyes suddenly full of concern. "And what are you going to do when he's old enough to see that his dad's working for the bad guys? How do you explain that to your son?"

Tyler answered surprisingly quickly, not even having to think through his response, immediately wishing he had. "I don't think I'll have to," he told Jody, not daring to meet her gaze, "because I reckon he'll want to work for 'em too."


End file.
